Nicole

billies biggest fan

[shemightbethe0ne]

STILL DON’T KNOW MY NAME - BILLIE EILISH SMUT (NSFW ‼️⚠️🔞)

billie; dom; gxg

PERSPECTIVE SWITCHES!! PAY ATTENTION!!

-billie's pov-

...

i watched her silhouette from across the club. long hair that falls just above her ass, thick and perfect curves filling out every damn inch of that dress.

i want to talk to her but... admittedly, i'm scared.

she looks like a girl who has her shit together, knows what she wants.

"i'll take two more." i say to the bartender who promptly pours me two more shots of tequila.

i brace myself before throwing each one back, feeling the burn hit the back of my throat and spread to my chest.

i shake it off, "lock in. just go get the girl."

okay. let's do it.

-

-your pov-

alcohol in my system, music blaring, i feel as light as a feather right now.

definitely an upgrade compared to the mental breakdown i had just two hours before arriving here.

i've been here, scouting out cute girls to take home tonight but to no avail, every girl here is either straight, taken, or just not my type.

i feel a hand on my shoulder, a body moving perfect in sync with mine pushed up against me.

i start to let the music take me over, swaying my hips against the person behind me.

i turn around to see who they are but quickly forget the task at hand as i see striking blue eyes and perfectly plump lips, her skin glowing radiantly under the bright colored lights of the club.

holy shit, she is hot.

and... she's dancing with me?

have i found my girl?

i see her smirk and bite her lip as she drifts a hand down to hold my hip, using her free hand to hold my own.

with the placement of her hand, we have the perfect mix of control. i can move my hips as i please as she lightly guides me in each direction.

my body presses up to hers more and more with each move, my core pulsing at the touch. i turn my head back again, our lips now just inches from each other.

the gaze is heated as she stares down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. i bite my lip and before i can control it, my body is instinctively pulling her neck down to meet my lips into an even more heated kiss.

my hips cease their swaying and i turn my body to have full access to her lips.

need and desire pang throughout my body with a pulsing sensation that drives me absolutely insane.

she briefly breaks the kiss, grabbing my hand and pulling me until we find a wall. she pushes me up against it, locking our lips again.

i drape my arms around her neck lazily, leaning up to deepen the kiss.

using her knee, she forces my legs apart and pushes her leg between. naturally, i start to roll my hips against her as soft whimpers only add to the neediness and sloppiness of our kiss.

before i know it, i've become too overcome by pleasure to keep the kiss going. i'm staring up at her, eyebrows furrowed and she's looking down at me like she's undressing me in her head.

thank god for this blasting music or else everyone here would be hearing the immoral sayings that i can't seem to control falling from my lips.

"fuck... god, that feels so good." i whine before dropping my head onto her shoulder, holding onto her shirt.

fuck, she smells so good.

"mhmm, i got you, baby. keep riding me like that." she praises in my ear and i swear i could've came right then and there.

my legs begin to shake with each roll of my hips, a knot forming in my stomach.

my head starts to spin and all i can see or hear is her.

i don't give a fuck who hears me.

"oh my god.." i moan.

"mmm, you sound so pretty." she teases.

"i-i'm... gonna c-cum, fuck." i breathe out, my nails digging into her back, head shoved in the side of her neck.

as my legs start to give out, i feel her hand in the small of my back, supporting me.

"that's right, let it out for me... mhmm, good girl." she mumbles in my ear.

before i know it, i come fully undone—moans pouring out of my mouth uncontrollably, my underwear completely soaked and ruined, and the people around us... well, fuck them.

i catch my breath as she moves her leg, still holding me up.

i lift my head to look into her eyes, dark and lustful.

"come home with me?" i ask in a sultry tone.

"let's go." she smirks and we stumble out of the club.

the cold air hits my skin, causing it to pebble with goosebumps and that's when it really hits me...

did i really just cum on the dance floor of some shithole club?

the real question is, do i even really care that much? an orgasm like that should have no bounds and should certainly never be questioned.

i call us an uber and the ride home is silent.

the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

it wasn't like the silence was uncomfortable. it was a silence that we—mentally, but mutually agreed needed to be kept because we both somehow knew if one of us spoke, we'd walk away with a traumatized uber driver, a fucked up car, and a very low uber rating.

after what happened in the club, it's clear that neither of us know—or care for—self control.

as the minutes on the gps get lower and lower i can see the anticipation in the girl's eyes—eyes that haven't ceased to be locked on mine—and i feel my body buzzing with need.

or is that still the alcohol...

i've now realized that i'm on my way home with a girl—kudos to me for actually getting what i want—but i don't even know her name.

and at this point, i'm not sure i even care to.

as long as she keeps staring at me the way she is right now and giving me orgasms as good as the last, i could spot those blue eyes a million more times from a mile away.

at last, the long awaited arrival at my house has come and i don't know if i feel more relief or desperation.

i grab my heels that i kicked off the second we entered the car and get out, heading to my door. she trails behind me and i swear i can feel her staring at my ass.

unlocking my door felt like an eternity.

talk about an unskippable cutscene.

the entire time, i could feel her eyes scanning my body, my sensitive clit pulsing at the thought of her touching and kissing all over my body.

the second we enter, she pushes me against the door, kissing me hungrily.

glad we're on the same page.

as she pushes her tongue into my mouth, she lifts my dress up just enough to slide my underwear to the side and tease my clit.

"fuck... so wet." she mumbles between kisses. at this point, i can't take much more of this. i grab her wrist, pushing it further down.

she moves her hand and i whine out of frustration.

that is until she puts her hands on the backs of my thighs, lifting me.

"bedroom." i mumble breathlessly, pointing down the hallway of my house.

she nods, kissing me again and carries me to my room, her lips never leaving mine.

she kicks the door open, placing me on the bed and swiftly pulling my underwear off.

i spread my legs, presenting myself to her with a desperate and heated look and she bites her lip at the sight.

she practically rips the rings off of her fingers, allowing me to notice the tattoos along the side of her hand.

that is so fucking hot.

she climbs on the bed between my legs, sliding her fingers through my slit and i can feel how embarrassingly wet i am.

she pushes a finger inside me slowly and i gasp at the feeling.

after that, i saw her smirk to herself before all niceties, morality, and cares went out the window.

she began to pound into me relentlessly, sending shockwaves of overwhelming pleasure throughout my body with every thrust.

"holy fucking shit! oh my god, yes!" i moan loudly.

i don't even know what to say or do with myself at this point.

what went from an innocent dance at the club has turn into her having complete and utter control over my entire soul, mind, and body.

my senses are overwhelmed with her.

her scent.

her touch.

the soft whimpers and groans of satisfaction as she watches me fall apart.

the taste of her still lingering on my lips.

her, oh so sexy, eyes darting back and forth from my eyes to my lips to my pussy.

i grip the sheets below me, my head tilted back as i spit every curse word in the book between desperate and slutty moans.

"fuck, right there.." i cry out as she curls her fingers, pushing herself even deeper.

she adds another finger, now exploring and stimulating places i didn't even know existed.

i start to ride her fingers, reaching a perfect rhythm where my hips meet her hand with every movement.

with her free hand, she pushes my dress even further up, revealing my tits that are now bouncing uncontrollably as i ride her.

she rolls my nipple between her fingers gently, the pleasure now inexplicable.

i feel a familiar knot forming in my stomach, my moans caught in my throat, and every coherent thought or word fleeing from my mind.

"so tight... you gonna cum for me, baby?" she slurs, her voice raspy.

unable to find words, i nod my head feverishly.

her pace has now quickened as she pounds me harder and harder. before i know it, i start to make a mess, fucking up everything in the vicinity.

the bed sheets, my thighs, her fingers, and her pants now completely soaked.

and yet, i'm still not done.

she uses her thumb to rub my clit which sends me over the edge.

all the noises i was unable to choke out before have now come pouring out of my mouth as my orgasm crashes over me.

my body shakes relentlessly, my back arching, and eyes rolling back before fluttering shut.

she slows her movements as i finish before pulling out completely.

it's hard to believe that those fingers that look so small and slender were filling me up, fucking me as deep as they were just a second ago.

my body goes limp and i close my eyes, taking a deep breath, my heart pounding in my throat.

"fuck." i breathe out with a chuckle.

"you okay?" she asks, giggling softly.

"mhmm." i slur, weakly putting a thumb up to her, "that was fucking amazing."

"i definitely agree. let me help get you cleaned up, you got a towel i can use?" she asks.

"bathroom is next door." i reply, out of breath.

i try to move but my body is still weak and shaking, yet all i can feel is a fucking pool under my ass.

i'm gonna have to do this damn laundry tomorrow.

[mrseilishh]

Backstage Pass

billie punishing you after a show, mommy billie

The arena pulsed with energy, another sold out show, lights flashing in sync with the pounding bass as Billie moved around the stage. Sweat glistened on her skin under the spotlights, her voice cutting through the screams of thousands of fans. She owned every note, every sway of her hips, her dark eyes scanning the crowd like a predator on the hunt.

There you were, front row, just like she’d asked. Her gaze locked onto you, her smile faltered for a split second. You’d chosen that tiny crop top, the one that barely covered your tits, paired with a skirt so short it rode up your thighs every time you moved. Fans pressed close, their hands brushing against you in the crowd. Billie’s jaw tightened. She’d told you to dress cute, modest something that screamed hers, not this slutty tease of an outfit that invited every eye in the place to stare at you.

She finished the set with fire in her veins, waving to the crowd before disappearing backstage. The adrenaline still thrummed through her as she stormed to her dressing room, barking at her team to clear out.

“I need privacy” she snapped, her voice low and edged with that tone that always made your stomach flip.

You waited outside the door, heart racing, knowing you’d fucked up. When she yanked it open, her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist like a vice. “Inside. Now.”

The door slammed shut behind you, locking with a click that echoed in the dim room. Billie backed you against the vanity, her body pressing into yours, all heat and muscle from the performance. Her breath was hot against your neck as she leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “What the fuck were you thinking? Showing up like that? Letting all those strangers stare at you?”

You stammered an apology, but she silenced you with a finger to your lips, her eyes dark with possession.

“Shh, you knew exactly what you were doing.” Her hand slid down, gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. She spun you around, bending you over the vanity so your ass stuck out, skirt flipping up to expose your panties.

The first smack landed sharp, her palm stinging through the thin fabric. You gasped, the burn spreading like fire. “This is for that fucking top,” she growled, delivering another, harder. “Too fucking short. Everyone could see your nipples poking through.” Another blow landed on you “And this skirt? Practically begging to get fucked” Her free hand yanked your panties down, pooling at your ankles, leaving your ass bare and vulnerable.

You whimpered, thighs clenching as heat pooled between your legs. Billie noticed, her fingers tracing the wet slit of your pussy. “Already dripping? Such a fucking slut. You like making mommy mad, don’t you?” She spanked you again, bare skin on skin, the slap echoing.

She didn’t stop until you were sobbing soft pleas, your pussy aching for more than just punishment. Dropping to her knees behind you, Billie spread your cheeks, her tongue diving straight into your folds. She licked you slow at first, savoring the taste, then faster, sucking your clit between her lips. Her fingers joined in, two plunging deep into your pussy, curling to hit that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

You gripped the vanity, moaning her name as she fucked you relentlessly, her other hand kneading your sore ass.

“Come for me,” she commanded, thumb circling your tight hole. The orgasm crashed over you, your walls clenching around her fingers as you squirted onto her hand, legs shaking.

Billie stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, then pulled you up to face her. She kissed you hard, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

“Next time, you wear what I say.” Her hand cupped your pussy possessively, fingers dipping in one last time. “Understand, baby?”

You nodded, breathless, already craving her control all over again.

[lacyblackpaiir]

iso billie tour please please please please

[2turnteternity]

Wowwww holy gay

[olderbootbutch]

one heavy makeout session with moaning and spit and groping and mutual thigh grinding please and thank you ma'am 🙏

[pintmother]

women are so perfect, soft bellies made for marking up.. soft titties made for groping , hips made for grabbing, stretch marks made to be traced with my tongue..

[cosmonautistic]

[billiesboob]

Me all day long

[sllverlake]

I ❤️ my baby daddy

[sxxphe]

begging on my knees for more billie sinners content. PLEASE

She’s a sinner pt. 4

Vampire! Billie x female! Reader

Warnings: none?

The room had gone quiet again.

Not peaceful—just… still. Like the air itself was holding its breath.

Billie hadn’t moved from your side. One arm stayed wrapped tight around your waist, her hand splayed against your stomach like she needed to feel you there—solid, alive. Her chin rested near your shoulder, but her eyes were open, fixed on the door.

Watching.

Always watching.

At first, you thought it was nothing. Just the city settling, pipes knocking, footsteps in the hall like any cheap boarding house.

But then her grip tightened.

Not painful—never that—but enough to make your breath hitch.

“Billie?” you whispered.

“Shh.” Barely a sound. Her voice had dropped back into that low, dangerous register. “Listen.”

You stilled.

There it was.

A creak.

Slow. Careful.

Right outside the door.

Your heart started to pick up again, that same cold fear from the mill creeping back into your chest. But Billie—Billie was already changing.

Her whole body shifted under your touch. Muscles tightening. Shoulders squaring. The warmth of her skin didn’t change, but the feeling did—like being wrapped around something coiled and ready to strike.

Her eyes flickered.

Gray—

to red.

“Don’t move,” she murmured, already sliding out of bed.

You watched her go, your chest tightening for a completely different reason this time.

It wasn’t just fear.

It was her.

The way she moved like a ghost across the floor. The way her breathing slowed to nothing. The way her hands flexed like she was already imagining tearing something apart.

Another creak outside.

Billie stepped in front of the door.

Waiting.

Silent.

Predatory.

Your stomach dropped.

This wasn’t the controlled version of her you’d seen earlier.

This was the version from the mill.

The one that didn’t think—just killed.

“…Billie,” you said softly.

No response.

Her head tilted just slightly, listening harder. Her jaw clenched, fangs barely visible now. You could feel the tension in her, even from across the room—like a storm about to break.

Then—

a stumble.

A muttered curse.

And a loud, clumsy thud against the wall outside.

Billie froze.

So did you.

“…the hell…?” a muffled voice slurred from the hallway.

Human.

Drunk.

Very, very human.

A second later, uneven footsteps dragged past your door, followed by a weak chuckle and another bump into something farther down the hall.

Silence.

Real silence this time.

Billie didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Her eyes were still glowing.

Still locked on the door.

Still ready to tear it open and end something.

You slid off the bed slowly, bare feet quiet against the wood.

“Billie,” you tried again, a little firmer.

Nothing.

She was still there—body in the room, mind somewhere else entirely.

Back in the mill.

Back in the blood.

You stepped closer.

Careful.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching out.

Your fingers brushed her arm.

She flinched.

Not away—but sharp, reactive. Like her body didn’t recognize the difference yet.

That made your chest ache.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, gentler now. “It’s just someone in the hall. A person. You hear him, right? He’s gone.”

Her breathing hitched.

Just slightly.

Her eyes didn’t change.

So you stepped closer.

Right into her space.

“Look at me,” you whispered.

For a second, you weren’t sure she would.

Then—slowly—her gaze dropped from the door to you.

Still red.

Still burning.

But focused.

“There’s no one here,” you said, holding her face lightly between your hands before she could pull away. “No nest. No hunters. No one’s coming for me right now.”

Her jaw tightened.

“They could,” she rasped. “You heard the scouts. They don’t stop. They don’t forget.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But this wasn’t them.”

Her hands were shaking.

You noticed it now—subtle, but there. The aftermath of all that adrenaline with nowhere to go.

“You don’t have to fight right now,” you added. “You’re safe. We’re safe.”

Her eyes flickered.

The red dimmed—just a little.

“I almost—” she started, voice rough. “If that door opened, I would’ve—”

“I know,” you cut in gently. “But it didn’t.”

You brushed your thumb across her cheek, right where those fading gashes had been earlier.

“You don’t have to be that version of you all the time,” you said. “Not here. Not with me.”

Something in her expression cracked.

Not weakness—never that.

Just… tension easing.

Slowly.

Reluctantly.

Her shoulders dropped a fraction. Her hands came up, hesitating for half a second before settling carefully on your waist—like she was reminding herself you were real.

“You sure you ain’t scared of me?” she asked quietly.

You gave her a small, steady look.

“I was more scared watching you not come back just now,” you admitted.

That hit her harder than anything else.

You felt it in the way her grip tightened—not possessive this time, but grounding.

Anchoring.

“I’m here,” you said softly. “Stay here with me.”

Her eyes finally faded all the way back to gray.

The room felt warmer again.

Less sharp.

Less… dangerous.

Billie exhaled a slow breath, pressing her forehead against yours.

“Alright,” she murmured. “Alright… I got you.”

“You don’t always have to be the one doing the saving,” you said.

A faint, tired huff of a laugh left her.

“Don’t get used to that,” she muttered—but there was no bite to it now.

You guided her back toward the bed, easing her down with you this time.

No urgency.

No fear.

Just closeness.

Her arm wrapped around you again, but looser now—still protective, still hers, but no longer braced for war.

Outside, the city carried on like nothing had happened.

Inside, her breathing finally slowed.

And for the first time since the mill—

she let herself be still.

“I love you.”

[billiesleftboobie]

WE ARE BEING FED

[ems1892]

Good Girl

a/n this is low-key (high key) based off the most recent interview Billie did but just the part where she gets called a good girl lmaooo

Fluff/smut

Summary: Billie comes home from work a little bit tired and needy. You take care of her feeding,showering and cuddling her and of course taking care of her sexual needs too

(Basically really soft and cute and Billie being a massive sub?)

Dom!reader x sub!billie

Warnings: showering together (no sex), praise kink (use of good girl etc.), oral (b!receiving), fingering (b!receiving), use of mommy (once)

It was around 8pm, Billie had texted you a few minutes ago letting you know that her and Finneas had an uninspiring day and that they were wrapping it up early. You were quite happy about this because she was always working so late recently.

You hear the door jingle and smile to yourself. “In the kitchen” you call out to Billie. You were plating up leftovers from the dinner you made for her. She shuffles in behind you wrapping her arms around you. “Hi baby” you murmur turning around. “How was today?” you murmur already knowing the answer. “Okay” she murmurs dryly nuzzling into your shoulder. “I have leftovers for you” you murmur leading her to the stool next the to kitchen island. “Eat” you murmur kissing her shoulder. She pulls you down onto the other stool while she eats holding your hand. She finishes up and puts her dish into the dishwasher. 

“I’m tired” Billie murmurs wrapping her arms around you once again. “Shower?” You murmur and she nods. we head to the bathroom and we strip our clothes off. You grab her hand pulling her into the shower. It’s not sexual, not really. You clean each other gently rinsing each other. You get wrapped up in towels, shuffling back into the bedroom. 

You reach for a shirt before she stops you, grabbing your wrist gently. “Wanna feel you against my skin” she whispers, almost shy. You nod sliding under the covers pulling her against you. Her leg is thrown over your waist, her arms resting around you. You’re playing with her hair a little before Billie starts to shift. It’s subtle at first, but then it’s a rolling motion of her hips against your upper thigh. “Bils?” You murmur. “Mhmm” she whines. “What do you need baby?” I whisper rubbing up her side. “You baby please”she whines her face buried into the crook of my neck.

You roll her onto her back, hovering over her now, your hair creating a curtain around her face. “Let me take care of you hm?” You whisper into her ear, still rubbing up and down her sides. “Please I’ve been good” she whimpers almost pleading.  “I know you have baby, my good girl hm?” She squirms at that, one thing about Billie is that she’s a sucker for praise, and she hates admitting it. You kiss down her body. Her neck, down to her collar bones and boobs and down her stomach right before her pelvis. 

You suck marks into her thighs something she also loves. You pull back a little seeing the dark marks blooming on her thighs. You finally lick from the bottom of her pussy to her clit starting to eat her out. Shes a whimpering, moaning mess already. You push two fingers inside her slowly. She gasps at the small stretch. The gasp resolves into whimpering. “Good girl Billie doing so well taking my fingers” you murmur coming away from her pussy now to whisper into her ear, just watching her fall apart on your fingers alone. “Say that again” she whimpers falling apart on your fingers. 

“Good girl Billie” you murmur straight into her ear. “Fuck” she curses under her breath. You can feel her clenching around you, indicating she close. “Cmon baby be a good girl and cum on mommy’s fingers hm?” Her legs start to shake as her moans go up and octave. She clenches around your fingers before releasing all over your fingers. You murmur sweet nothings into her ear trying to ground her. 

She’s still catching her breath when you pull my fingers out slowly, pressing them to her lips.  She takes them into her mouth sucking hour fingers clean while tasting herself. You pull her into your arms feeling her body relax against you as her eyes start to droop.  “Love you” she murmurs before finally falling asleep.

[julzrulz-191]

𝐒ummery: In the cramped, vibrating back lounge of a tour bus speeding down a midnight highway, Billie Eilish finds a private outlet for her post-show adrenaline. Obsessed with the reader's body and fueled by the thrill of being feet away from their sleeping crew, Billie claims the reader in a raw, vocal, and uninhibited encounter that prioritizes heavy friction and deep, worshipping intimacy.

𝐏airing: Singer!billie x girlfriend!reader

𝐖arnings:

Hardcore WLW Smut

Explicit Language (Pussy, Clit, Cum, Fuck)

Detailed Fingering & Oral

Breasted-Obsessed Themes

Risk of Discovery / Public Setting

Overstimulation

The tour bus hums with a low, mechanical vibration, the steady thrum-thrum of tires on the asphalt acting as a lullaby for the rest of the crew. Behind the heavy, velvet curtains of the bunk alley, everyone is dead to the world, exhausted from the high-octane energy of the stadium show. But Billie is vibrating. She’s still wearing her oversized tour tee, her skin glowing with a faint sheen of leftover stage sweat, and her eyes are wide, electric, and locked onto yours.

She doesn't say a word. She just reaches out and hooks her fingers into the belt loops of your jeans, pulling you out of your bunk with a strength that catches you off guard. Her touch is hot, restless. She leads you toward the back of the bus, through the narrow, cramped hallway, her hip bumping yours with every slight curve the bus takes on the dark highway.

When you reach the tiny back lounge, she doesn't turn on the lights. The only illumination comes from the faint, passing glow of highway lamps through the tinted windows and the tiny blue LEDs of the sound equipment. The space is small, cramped with discarded hoodies and half-empty water bottles, but the second the heavy door clicks shut behind you, the atmosphere turns suffocatingly thick.

Billie spins you around, her back hitting the small leather banquette, and pulls you down with her. The engine’s rumble vibrates through the floor and up into your bones, but all you can focus on is the way Billie’s hands immediately find the hem of your shirt.

"I couldn't breathe back there," she whispers, her voice a jagged, low rasp that barely carries over the hum of the AC. She’s staring at your chest with a singular, heavy-lidded intensity that makes your breath hitch. "All I could think about was getting you back here. Getting these out."

She doesn't wait for permission. Her movements are frantic but focused, her fingers trembling slightly as she bunches the fabric of your shirt upward. She’s always been vocal about it—the way she’s fixated on your body, the way she craves the weight and softness of you—and right now, with the adrenaline of twenty thousand screaming fans still coursing through her, that obsession is turned up to a dangerous volume.

"God, you're so perfect," she mutters, her breath hitching as she finally clears the fabric, her eyes blowing wide at the sight of you in the dim, blue light. "I've been thinking about this since the first song of the set. Just... needing to touch you."

She leans forward, her hands cupping you with a reverence that feels almost holy, her thumbs brushing over your nipples as she pulls you closer into her personal space. The bus swerves slightly, throwing your weight against her, and she lets out a muffled, needy sound against your neck, her face burying into your skin while her hands stay firmly, possessively locked onto your breasts.

Billie’s fingers are frantic, hooking into the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward with a needy, single-minded focus. You lift your arms, helping her pull the fabric over your head and tossing it onto the cramped leather seat, leaving you exposed in the dim, flickering blue light of the lounge. The air is cool, but the heat radiating off her is intense, a physical force that makes your skin prickle.

She lets out a shaky, jagged breath, her eyes dropping to your chest. She doesn't move for a heartbeat, just staring at you with an expression that boarders on worship. "Fuck," she whispers, her voice a low, gravelly rasp. "You have no idea what you do to me. I was on stage looking at everyone, but I was just picturing this. Just this."

She reaches out, her palms warm and slightly calloused as she cups both of your breasts, squeezing them with a possessive, heavy pressure. She’s obsessed with the weight of them, the way they spill over her fingers, and she moans low in her throat as she thumbs your nipples into hard, aching peaks. The bus hits a small bump, jolting you forward, and she uses the momentum to pull you flush against her.

Then, she leans in.

Her mouth is hot, a stark contrast to the chilled air of the bus. She starts slow, her tongue circling your nipple in a broad, wet stroke that makes your toes curl against the carpeted floor. You let out a soft gasp, and Billie immediately freezes, her eyes darting toward the thin door that leads to the bunks. She presses a finger to her own lips, a silent shhh, before looking back up at you with a wicked, electric spark in her gaze.

She wants you quiet, but she’s not going to make it easy.

She opens her mouth wide, taking as much of you in as she can. The suction is deep and rhythmic, her tongue flicking against the underside of your breast before she drags her teeth—just a graze—over the tip. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out, your hands tangling in her hair as she ravages you. She’s greedy, her hands never letting go of your other breast, kneading the soft tissue while she focuses all her attention on the other.

"So soft," she mutters against your skin, the vibration of her voice sending a jolt straight to your pussy. "I just want to stay like this. I want to spend the whole drive across the state right here, just tasting you."

She switches sides, her mouth leaving a glistening trail of saliva across your chest. She’s relentless, sucking you deep into her throat, her breath hitching every time you let out a muffled whimper. The bus continues to rumble, a steady, vibrating backdrop to the messy, wet sounds of her mouth on you, the secrecy of the moment only making her more uninhibited, more desperate to have every single bit of you.

The bus groans as it takes a sharp turn, the chassis leaning into the curve, but Billie doesn’t lose her footing. She’s focused, her pupils so dilated they’ve nearly swallowed the blue of her irises. Her hands slide down from your chest, her palms dragging over your ribs and stomach until her fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts. She doesn’t ask; she just tugs, her breathing coming in hot, shallow bursts against your bare skin as she peels the fabric and your underwear down to your ankles.

You step out of them, standing exposed in the center of the tiny lounge, the floorboards vibrating beneath your bare feet. Billie drops to her knees with a heavy thud, her height putting her face right at level with your hips. She doesn't dive in immediately. Instead, she just looks, her hands coming up to grip the backs of your thighs, her fingers digging into your skin to hold you steady against the sway of the bus.

"You're so fucking beautiful," she breathes, the words barely a thread of sound. "I can't believe you're mine. I really can't."

She leans forward, pressing her face against the soft skin of your inner thigh. Her skin is hot, her nose cold, and the sensation makes you shiver. She begins to trail slow, wet kisses upward, her mouth moving with a reverence that feels like a prayer. She kisses the sensitive skin near your knee, then moves higher, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin.

She’s taking her time, her mouth lingering on every inch. She nuzzles into the crease where your leg meets your hip, her breath hitching as she catches the scent of your arousal. You can feel the vibration of her humming low in her throat, a deep, resonant sound that echoes through your thighs.

"I want to taste every part of you," she mutters against your skin, her voice a jagged rasp. "I want to leave marks so you remember exactly who you belong to when you wake up in your bunk tomorrow."

She bites down gently—just enough to leave a stinging heat—on the meat of your thigh, her hands sliding up to cup your ass, pulling you closer until your heat is pressing against her lips. She looks up at you from between your legs, her expression raw and demanding, a silent command for you to stay quiet even as she prepares to undo you completely.

The bus hits a bridge, the rhythmic thud-thud of the tires providing a heavy, mechanical beat that Billie matches as she finally presses her face fully into you. She doesn't hesitate, her tongue darting out in a sharp, focused stroke that finds your clit instantly. You let out a muffled gasp, your hands flying to her shoulders to steady yourself as the world outside the tinted windows blurs into a streak of highway lights.

She’s relentless. Her tongue is broad and wet, swirling over the sensitive nub with a heavy pressure that makes your knees buckle. She uses her hands to pry you wider, her thumbs hooked into the creases of your hips, holding you open so she can see exactly how you’re reacting to her. The sound of her mouth on you is messy and loud in the cramped lounge, a wet, suctioning noise that makes your face flush hot with the fear of being caught—and the thrill of it.

"Fuck, you're so sweet," she mumbles against your skin, her voice vibrating through your entire lower body.

She slides two fingers deep inside your pussy, her pace sudden and demanding. She’s mimicking the motion of her tongue, creating a friction that feels like it’s set your nerves on fire. You have to bury your face in your arm, biting down on your own skin to keep from screaming as she drives you upward. Billie looks up at you, her eyes dark and frantic, watching your expression as you begin to unravel.

"Don't you dare be quiet for me now," she hisses, even though she knows you have to be.

She picks up the speed, her tongue flicking faster, her fingers curling upward inside you to hit that internal sweet spot over and over. You’re shaking, your legs trembling so violently she has to grip you tighter just to stay between them. The tension in your gut coils into a tight, white-hot knot, and just as the bus swerves into a lane change, you break.

You collapse forward, your fingers tangling in her hair as a massive, soul-shaking climax ripples through you. You let out a long, broken moan into the crook of your elbow, your pussy pulsing violently around her fingers as a thick wave of cum drenches her hand and her mouth. Billie doesn't pull back; she drinks you in, her tongue catching every drop of your release, her fingers staying buried deep inside you until the very last tremor fades into the humming vibration of the bus.

[julzrulz-191]

𝐒ummery: After an grueling day in the studio, Billie returns home physically and mentally drained, seeking the only comfort that can truly ground her. What begins as a quiet, domestic cuddle on the sofa evolves into a slow, hazy encounter—an intimate reclamation of each other that prioritizes soft touches and deep connection over the frantic pace of the world outside.

𝐏airing: Celeb!billie x girlfriend!reader

𝐖arnings:

Detailed WLW Smut

Gentle / Tired Sex

Slow Oral & Fingering

Face-to-Face Intimacy

Praise & Soft Dirty Talk

The sound of the key turning in the lock is heavy, a familiar metallic click that signals the end of a fourteen-hour day. When the door finally swings open, Billie doesn’t burst in with her usual frantic energy. Instead, she drags her feet, the soles of her sneakers scuffing against the hardwood as she kicks them off without unlacing them. She leaves her heavy puffer jacket in a heap on the floor, moving through the dim entryway like she’s walking underwater.

You’re in the living room, the low hum of a record player spinning a silent groove, and the moment she rounds the corner and sees you, her entire posture changes. The tension in her shoulders—that rigid, defensive line she carries when she’s been under the studio lights and the pressure of a deadline—simply vanishes.

"Oh, thank god," she breathes, her voice so raspy and worn out it’s barely a whisper.

She doesn't ask if she can join you. She just moves toward the sofa with a singular focus, her oversized hoodie swallowing her frame. She crawls onto the cushions, moving with a clumsy, tired grace until she’s practically draped over your lap. She buries her face in the soft heat of your neck, her nose cold against your skin, and lets out a long, shuddering sigh that feels like she’s finally exhaling the last three weeks of stress.

"I’m never leaving again," she mumbles, her words muffled by your skin. "The studio is a vacuum. It just sucks everything out of me. I was sitting in the booth and I literally forgot what it felt like to just... be a person. To be your person."

Her hands, usually so restless and expressive, are heavy as she slides them under your arms, locking them around your back. She pulls you in so tight it’s like she’s trying to merge your heartbeats into one. You can feel the cold metal of her rings pressing into your spine, a grounding, physical reminder of her presence. She starts to shift, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your shoulder, her breath coming in slow, hot puffs that make your skin tingle.

"You smell like home," she whispers, and you can hear the slight pout in her voice, that needy, affectionate tone she only uses when the rest of the world is locked out. "I spent all day listening to my own voice over and over in the monitors until I hated it. I just wanted to hear you. I just wanted to sit in the quiet with you."

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her ocean-blue eyes heavy-lidded and rimmed with a tired pink, but they’re scanning your face with a desperate sort of hunger. Her hand comes up, her thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone before sliding down to catch your bottom lip, tugging on it gently. Everything about her is soft right now—the way she looks at you, the way she moves, the way she seems to be melting into the fabric of the sofa and the warmth of your body.

"Talk to me," she murmurs, her forehead dropping against yours so your breaths mingle in the small space between you. "Don't tell me anything important. Just tell me what you did today. Tell me about the birds outside or what you ate for lunch. Just let me listen to you so I can stop thinking about work."

As you start to talk, her eyes flutter shut, a small, content smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She begins to trace idle, nonsensical patterns on your chest with her fingertip—circles and lines that mean nothing but "I’m here." Every so often, she lets out a tiny, soft hum, a reflex from a day spent chasing melodies, but this one is grounded, anchored by the fact that she’s finally exactly where she wants to be. She shifts her weight, tucking her legs up beside yours and pulling a discarded throw blanket over both of you, creating a small, warm cocoon that smells of vanilla and woodsmoke.

"Don't move," she warns softly, her voice trailing off as she hooks her chin over your shoulder. "If you get up, I’m going to have to physically tether myself to you. I mean it. I’m a human burr tonight. You’re stuck."

She laces her fingers with yours, squeezing tight, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles in a slow, rhythmic motion that mirrors the steady, calming pace of her breathing as she finally starts to unwind, her head heavy against your chest.

The air in the bedroom is thick with the scent of vanilla and the fading heat of the day. Billie’s movements are liquid-slow, her heavy-lidded eyes never leaving yours as she tugs her hoodie over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She’s beautiful in the dim light—pale skin, soft curves, and the tired slump of her shoulders that only starts to straighten when you pull her toward you.

She crawls onto the bed, hovering over you with her weight braced on her forearms. Her hair falls like a silk curtain around your faces, creating a private, dark world. "I've been thinking about this since noon," she whispers, her voice a low, raspy vibration. "Just... you. Everything else was just noise."

Her kisses are deep and languid, tasting of the mint tea she’d been sipping all day and the raw, sweet need she has for you. There’s no rush. She moves with a sleepy, deliberate grace, her hands roaming over your body as if she’s re-memorizing every curve she missed while she was away. When her hand slides between your thighs, it’s not with a jolt, but a slow, rhythmic pressure that makes you melt into the mattress.

"You're so warm," she murmurs, her thumb circling your clit through the dampening lace of your underwear. "So soft for me."

She strips you with the same unhurried focus, her eyes drinking you in. When she finally sinks down between your legs, she rests her forehead against your inner thigh for a heartbeat, just breathing you in. Then, her tongue finds you. It’s a slow, broad stroke—wet and heavy—that sends a shimmering wave of heat through your entire body. She isn't flicking or teasing; she’s worshipping you, her mouth steady and sure as she tastes the salt and sweetness of your pussy.

"Billie," you moan, your fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer.

She hums against you—a low, resonant sound that vibrates through your bones—before sliding two fingers deep inside. She’s gentle, her movements a long, dragging friction that reaches all the way to your soul. She watches you while she does it, her blue eyes dark with a mix of exhaustion and absolute adoration. She watches your eyes flutter shut, watches the way your breath hitches, and watches the flush spread across your chest.

"That's it, babe," she breathes, pulling back just enough to see your face. "Just feel me. I've got you."

She picks up the pace just a fraction, her thumb grinding into your clit with a relentless, heavy pressure that mirrors the slow thumping of her heart. The friction builds, a hazy, white-hot glow that starts in your gut and spreads until your limbs feel heavy and sparks dance behind your eyelids. You’re clenching around her fingers, your pussy milking her in rhythmic, desperate pulses.

"You're so close," she whispers, her voice a jagged caress. "Give it to me. Come for me, honey."

When you break, it’s not a scream, but a long, shaky exhale. Your body ripples with a slow, honey-thick climax that seems to last for minutes. A heavy wave of cum drenches her hand, and Billie doesn't pull away; she stays there, her fingers still deep inside you, feeling every fading tremor of your release.

She crawls back up your body, her skin slick and warm against yours. She doesn't ask for her own turn; she just needs to be near you. She settles between your legs, her head resting on your chest, lacing her damp fingers with yours.

"I'm home," she mumbles, her voice trailing off into a sleepy, content sigh. "I'm finally home."

[xoluvx]

If your looking for a new smut idea i keep getting the thought of miko teasing you while traveling like on a plane or a bus/car. She has you in her lap on her strap but she tells you not to move and the only movement comes from her or the bumpy road/plane turbulence. Basically her having you whimpering for her in her lap for as long as she wanted.

i meeeeeean… i hope i made your vision come true :)

the whole thing had started off as a joke and now you were chocking on your own words. who were you kidding? this was harder than you thought. literally.

sitting on her lap? strap deep? no moving? did i mention strap deep? like you could feel that shit in your cervix and every time there was turbulence you were gripping to the leather seats. biting down on your lip so hard you could nearly taste the blood.

“estás bien mami?” she whispered in that seductive nonchalant way and you felt every little sound of her voice ripple through your body like a shock wave. you wanted so desperately to open your legs wider. to just move your hips just a little bit. just one back and forth. just one thrust. instead you just nodded. you couldn’t really turn to look at her either. this was torture. in the most pleasurable way.

“good, you know the rules,” she teased gripping your waist a little tighter before leaning back inadvertently moving her hips. shifting the angle at which the dildo sat. you tried it all. digging your nails into the seat, biting your lip, closing your eyes so tight you could almost see stars. nothing relieved the itch and urge to just move.

you were ready to beg when you felt her fingers furl around the bottom of your t-shirt. her hips shifting again before holding on to your hips. rocking your body so slowly. you were going to burst into a million pieces already and she knew it. she could feel every tremble in your body. every pathetic little effort to stay still. every breath you had to force through your teeth so you couldn’t make a sound loud enough to give the two of you away.

“such a good girl,” she murmured almost lazily like she wasn’t dragging you straight to the edge. her fingers slipped under your shirt. warm against your skin tracing up high just enough to make your stomach tighten. “taking it so well.” she added and a broken sound caught in your throat.

you tried to swallow it. tried keeping whatever dignity you had left but it was getting impossible. the slow roll of her hips and the way she controlled yours like your body belonged to her which it did was unbearable. the steady pressure buried so deep it made your thoughts go blank. you were losing it.

“ga-,” you started then stopped because what the hell were you even going to say? please? stop? more? none of it would’ve been true enough. her mouth brushed the side of your neck. not quite a kiss but just enough to make you shiver.

“use your words mami.”

words? right. as if she hadn’t slowly been fucking every coherent thought out of your head. starting the second she sat you down like this and told you not to move.

“i can’t,” you whispered and it came out needier than you thought.

she hummed behind you pleased. “no?” another slow rock. another cruel shift of that angle that had your legs threatening to give out even though you were already planted in place. “looks like you’re doing just fine.” you could almost see the smug look on her face. you could picture it clearly as you hung on by a thread. burning alive in plain sight. trapped between the ache to obey and the worse ache to disobey. every nerve in your body was screaming at you to move. to grind down and take just a little more friction. just enough to survive. but her hands stayed firm on your hips keeping you exactly where she wanted you. full. shaking. helpless.

“told you,” she said softly lips right by your ear now. her voice low and wicked and far too calm for what she was doing to you. “no moving.” another tremble ran through you. impossible to hide. your thighs clenched. your nails scraped uselessly against the seat.

it was obscene. it was unbearable.

when she shifted you again just a little deeper, just enough to make your breath hitch so hard your vision blurred. all you could do was drop your head back against her shoulder and let out the tiniest most wrecked sound yet. her hand slid higher flattening against your stomach holding you still through the aftershock of it.

“stay like that,” she whispered. “don’t you dare cum until i let you.”

[2turnteternity]

Yup this did it

[walkhimdown]

[g1sunstreaker]

[kamelthemammal]

i lobe my pjs theyre so comfy

so what if my shorts are loose enough to the point that they’re practically falling off and my shirt covers like fifty percent of me i like it that way :>

[imhappierthanever]

I think about her every single day

[imhappierthanever]

Thinking about Coachella Billie rn. Need her so bad omg

[vesprra-deactivated20260401]

"but i'm too old for you"

just shut up and bend me over